Every Light Casts A Shadow
by Lassarina Aoibhell
Summary: -Final Fantasy IV- Though it is possible to return home, it is rarely possible to return affairs to their previous state. Sometimes the only course of action is to move forward. Kain-centric, spoilers for the whole game. Not After Years-compliant.
1. A Whisper Upon the Wind

He could feel the change in the air, the hint of a chill underneath the warm breeze. Most wouldn't have noticed it, but he was a Dragoon. Moreover, he had spent months subject to the tender mercies of the Fiend of Wind. His skin crawled when he thought of her, remembering her laughter; yet she had given him a great gift, as well, to know the air as she did.

Winter was coming. It was still some months off, to be sure, but the taste of it was in the air. He gazed northeast, to Baron-to home. He had been doing that more and more often of late, his attention drawn there as steel was to a lodestone. Sometimes he rather fancied he could hear the accents of his homeland carried on the wind, a faint susurrus of sound that always hovered just beyond comprehension.

He looked down from the summit of Mt. Ordeals, seeing the expanse of forest spread out beneath him, so green it nearly hurt his eyes. He had been here two years, and twice had watched the verdant mass shift to gold and crimson beneath a stunning azure sky, before crumbling to brown dust and bare black arms against pristine snow. For two years, he had pushed himself to the limit of his Dragoon skills in an effort to prove himself worthy of his name; for two years he had held himself away from those he loved most in the world, whether as penance for himself or punishment for them he could not say.

It was a glorious warm morning in late summer. Kain took a deep breath, filtering through the scents. There was the tang of smoke from the fire he had built to cook his breakfast, but it didn't quite blot out the smell of so many growing things at the base of the mountain. If he really concentrated, he could isolate the stink of decay from the undead creatures that flocked about the lower slopes of the mountain. Though he stood atop the mountain and not within it, there was a faint scent of a cave, the taint of heavy minerals and a sense of stillness, despite the gentle breeze that ruffled his blond hair. He attributed that to KluYa's sanctuary at his back, for he had not encountered it elsewhere on the mountain. The thought that he had scented it elsewhere nagged at him, for he could not recall where. Perhaps it was from one of the many caves they had slogged through on Cecil's quest for purity and righteousness.

Kain turned to look off the other side of the mountain, savouring a view he would not see again for many years, if ever. He had lived upon the summit of Mt. Ordeals for two years. He had grieved for the loss of King Odin and grieved for the wedding which had rendered Rosa forever unattainable to him. He had raged against Golbez and Zemus and the Lunarians as a whole for the despicable actions he had performed under Golbez's control, and castigated himself for not being strong enough to resist. Eventually rage and grief had given way to exhaustion, and at the last, a kind of peace.

He still despised himself for his weakness and jealousy, but he was ready to face his friends again, though their forgiveness cut him anew every time.

The playful breeze swirled around him, sending strands of his hair snapping into his eyes and tangling with his beard. Kain brushed them away irritably. He would not dare appear in Dragoon uniform unshaven, but a dagger did not make a good razor and he had grown used to the beard, which kept him a bit warmer in winter. He supposed he would be sorry to see it go.

He kicked out his fire, packed his few belongings into a bag and donned his armour. He had trained each day, keeping his jumping skills strong and his weapon in good use slaughtering the undead. They were not a worthy target, but they were better than naught, and less damaging to his weapon than unyielding stone. He took a few moments to ensure that the traces of his long habitation were at least lessened, if not fully erased, and started to dismantle his small cabin. Leaving it here in this holy place felt wrong to him somehow. He undid the canvas walls easily enough, but the ropes holding the poles in place had become permanently knotted from swelling with rainfall and then contracting as they dried. With a muttered curse, he clambered up the nearest support pole and drew his belt knife to cut the ropes at the top.

From here, he could see straight down the mountain to the forests below. There were foul undead swaying and stumbling along the paths. Beyond them, he saw the forests he had studied from afar. He paused, knife in hand, in the midst of cutting the ropes. The thought that he would not see these forests on the morrow was strange to him. He had grown as accustomed to their constant presence as he had the constant hiss of Golbez's magic or the ache whenever he thought of Rosa—though, to his knowledge, the trees had not yet been a contributing factor to his fall from grace.

He was recalled abruptly to his task when the mostly-severed rope gave way and he fell ten feet to the ground, amid a great crashing of wood. He grunted in disgust. The cabin would be unusable for him now, as he'd run out of rope months ago. He finished dismantling it nonetheless and left the pieces neatly stacked several yards from KluYa's sanctuary. Perhaps some other traveler might find use of it.

He stood a moment on the windswept plateau, staring at the door of KluYa's sanctuary. Though he had lived literally right next to the squat, moon-white building for two years, he had never approached the door, never attempted to enter. Partly, he avoided it for Cecil's sake; he had no wish to intrude on the other man's lone connection with his father. Then, too, he had no desire to give up his Dragoon's skills in favour of a holy blade. He did not deserve such a blade, nor could he uphold the way of a Paladin. Cecil and Rosa were suited to holy trades, to the bright light that glowed from within and illuminated all in their vicinity with reflected goodness. He was merely a fallen Dragon Knight, hardly worthy of his spear.

Kain laid his hand lightly on the door to the sanctuary, feeling the power that hummed through it. It was the same vibration as the magic that surrounded Golbez, an invisible aura of power. Yet where Golbez's magic had felt unclean and slimy as it wound its tendrils around his limbs and sank cancerous roots into his skin, this felt bright and strong, like the glow of Excalibur's blade. He let his hand rest there, taking a deep breath. "Thank you," he said aloud. "Perhaps one day when I am more worthy, I shall return."

He turned away from the door. His bag weighed very little when he settled it on his shoulder; testament to how isolated he had been up here, where the nearest town was two days' journey on foot. He pulled on his gauntlets and started across the bridge that led to the path downward, gripping his spear.

The undead troubled him very little, though he was astounded as always that their numbers never seemed to decrease. Surely there were not enough adventurers foolhardy enough to dare this mountain and die in the doing to keep the population constant. Did undead breed? Kain winced at the thought, banishing horrifying images of baby zombies from his mind, and continued downward. Those few undead foolish enough to approach him died swiftly; their omnipresent stench of rotting meat mixed with the pungent odor of burnt flesh where the edges of his holy lance left seared wounds. In his hands, even a holy relic became tainted with death; it was merely one more example of everything he touched turning to ruin.

When he reached the base of the mountain, he realized why no would-be paladins had come to plague him these many months past: pillars of flame blocked the path leading up (and down) the mountain. They cast no light, which sent a chill down his spine; like the flames from the ring he and Cecil had once delivered to Mist, they seemed rather to pull light into their depths, explaining why he had not seen them from the summit. They were like no flames he had encountered before; even Rydia's most powerful spell had not created towering columns thrice his height, holding their shape though they burned fiercely and writhed within invisible confines. No stone or tree bound them, yet they covered the width of the path precisely.

Kain paused and looked around. There were no undead within a score of yards, nor could he see any mage who looked to be creating these flames. Unease prickled across the back of his neck. Why would someone place these flames here? Did some ill-wisher intend to keep him confined to the mountain? Had something happened in Baron, and this was intended to keep him from going to Rosa's aid?

The thought of Rosa impelled him. He cared not why the flames existed; he cared only that he surmount this obstacle. The mountain to his left was too sheer to climb and too high even for a Dragoon's jump to reach; to his right, crumbling stone and pebbles that would not bear his weight. Over the flames, then, it must be. He leapt from a standing start, clearing the tops of the flames with several inches to spare and landing lightly on the other side.

He moved further down the path and quickly reached the forest. It was far different seeing it from this perspective rather than an endless sea of greenery viewed from above. There were a few fruit trees whose boughs were sagging beneath the weight of green fruit just beginning to ripen. He thought about picking one or two of the apples, but he knew they were too green yet. Still, he'd not had fresh fruit since last fall, when he'd discovered three apple trees on the north side of the mountain, and the sight of them made his mouth water. The air down here seemed heavier, dense with the humidity of the Water Crystal in Mysidia and almost too thick to breathe. He had grown too accustomed to the heights of the mountain. The air was hotter, too; at the summit this season meant pleasant warmth, while down here it was closer to a tropical jungle. Already he was damp with sweat beneath his armor.

The forest was dense with masses of leaves and thick vines. Through the trees, he saw a pair of does grazing with their young. Farther away, he saw a rabbit racing away from some fright. A narrow path snaked through the trees to the south, leading to a place where he remembered chocobos dwelt. He glanced at the clearing and pathway that wended its way eastward, toward Mysidia. He could make the journey either on foot, or by chocobo. The latter would tax his worn boots rather less, but at the same time, he was unsure that he wished to return to civilization that soon. He had been atop Mt. Ordeals for two years. Surely two more days would not make a difference.

Nonetheless, he found his feet carrying him toward the southern path. The occasional twig snapped beneath his boots, though years' worth of loam was soft and yielding underfoot. He caught the faint sweet-sour scent of gysahl and paused. He tucked his gauntlets into his pack and picked a handful of gysahl leaves from a tree a few feet off the path.

The chocobos gathered perhaps two miles from the base of the mountain, and today there were a handful of them roaming around. The white females ran when he approached, cowering shyly behind the trees, while the larger yellow males kept their distance but eyed him with curiosity in their bright gaze. He simply stood still, holding out the gysahl leaves in an open hand.

He had to wait perhaps half an hour, and the morning sun was becoming uncomfortably warm on the Dragon armour he had brought with him from the lunar surface, but he could see the chocobos gradually edging closer as they caught the scent of the leaves in his hand. Eventually one of the males approached, his head bobbing, and pecked quickly at his hand, gulping down the gysahl. Kain rested a hand on the chocobo's neck. He preened his wing and bowed his head, bending his knees to allow Kain to climb aboard more easily. He tried to settle himself so that his greaves wouldn't pull at the chocobo's feathers, tugging his trousers to cover the edges as best he could. Once he was seated, the chocobo made his slow way out of the clearing and sauntered along the path that led back to the base of the mountain.

The bird picked up speed as they left the forest, racing across the open grassland. Kain applied light pressure to the right side of his neck and his veered west. The morning sun, reflected from the sea, stabbed into his eyes, a fierce glare that made his head throb. Flipping down the visor on his helm helped a little, but not enough to make a real difference. Eventually the sun rose high enough that it merely beat down upon him in all its midday glory rather than worsening his headache. The chocobo appeared to be unaffected, racing along and gleefully jouncing Kain about as he ran.

The town of Mysidia rose in the distance, squat stone buildings surrounding the tall Tower of Prayer. Kain halted the chocobo a half-mile or so from the town and slid to the ground, patting the bird on the neck in gratitude. It uttered a short squawk and raced off in the direction of Mt. Ordeals, presumably to return to its brethren. He set off down the road, walking past fields and orchards where farmers were working. When he was nearly to the city, he paused, telling himself it was to drink water from his canteen, but in reality, he wanted to delay. He drank some of the water, and rearranged the way his bag hung on his shoulder, but there was only so much he could do.

Kain turned to face the city and took a deep breath. After so long alone, he was wary of approaching people, particularly in a town that had plenty of reason to hate Baronians. If his Dragon Knight accoutrements didn't give him away, his accent surely would. However, he couldn't return to Baron without going through Mysidia; even his jumping skills could not span the ocean in between, and attempting to swim it would merely result in one very waterlogged Dragoon pinned to the sea bottom by the weight of his armour. He was unwilling to discard the fine Dragon armour; it was superior to any he'd ever owned, but it was easier by far to transport it by wearing it than to try to pack the hundred-plus pounds of metal.

In Baron, heraldic flags on the castle indicated whether the King was in residence. Kain didn't know enough about Mysidia's practices to know if the lack here indicated that the Elder was not here, or if they simply did not bother. A short line of people awaited entrance into the town; some he would guess were merchants by their rich clothing, while others had ingrained dirt and carts full of vegetables that suggested they were farmers. It seemed that only politeness kept them waiting, for the heavy stone gates stood wide open. Kain wondered why Mysidia's defenses were so similar to Baron's, when their means of fighting were so different, but perhaps it was simply easier to build a massive wall and rain fire down from the inside.

He straightened his shoulders and strode up to the city gates, grimacing a little bit at the soreness in his legs. He hadn't been on a chocobo in entirely too long, and his muscles were reminding him of it in no uncertain terms. There were a couple of bored young men on watch—they wore armour, not robes, so perhaps they were guardsmen—who waved him through without much in the way of questions or attention, being rather more interested in the sight of three young women in journeyman's robes giggling and whispering nearby. Two wore white robes, and one the blue robes that in Baron meant black mages. The mages within the town gave him curious glances, but none approached to engage him in conversation or accuse him of treason, kidnapping, murder, and other unsavoury acts. The townsfolk not in robes were much the same.

He did not want to go into the Elder's presence as he was, so he looked around for an inn. The innkeeper raised an eyebrow at his accent but took his coin eagerly enough, and soon he was bathed and freshly shaven. A serving girl offered to help cut his hair, and soon it was combed out in a neat queue as it ought to be. The innkeeper had offered to have his clothes clean in two hours for an additional fee, and Kain was astonished to discover that he kept his word. In Baron, cleaning and drying the clothing would have taken the better part of the day. He wondered if Mysidians would be willing to teach Baronian mages how to do this.

At last he could dawdle no longer, and made his way to the Tower of Prayer. He hesitated outside. He knew the Mysidian Elder bore no lasting ill-will toward Baron for Cecil's actions under Cagnazzo's false orders, but he still felt awkward approaching the man. He could just imagine entering the Tower of Prayer and presenting himself to the Elder. iGood afternoon, Elder. I am Kain Highwind of Baron. My near-brother killed and kidnapped your citizens and stole from you on the orders of our adoptive father. Might I have your assistance in returning to his side?/i Nevertheless, he approached the massive oaken door, where two mages in blue robes stood guard. "Good afternoon," he said. "If it is possible, I would like to speak with the Elder."

Before the guards could answer, the portal swung inward to reveal a boy and a girl. They wore the robes of apprentice mages, and had glossy brown hair and dark brown eyes. Kain thought they seemed a bit young for mages, as the journeywomen he'd seen at the gate had appeared to be his own age or perhaps a bit older. They were quite short and had faces rounded with baby fat. They couldn't be much older than Rydia had been when they found her in Mist.

The boy made a face, sticking out his tongue, which earned him a swift thwack upside the head from the girl, who then made a polite curtsy. "Welcome to the Tower of Prayer, Kain Highwind," she said. "How may we help you?"

Kain's mouth fell open. "How do you know me?"

"You are Cecil's friend." At his look of surprise, she smiled. "We traveled with him. He spoke of you often."

"I see." Kain had not expected to be recognized on sight; he had been to this town only twice, once before they went to the moon and the second time when he passed through on his way to Mount Ordeals. "I came to speak to the Elder, if he would be willing to do so."

"Come, I will take you."

He followed her into the tower, leaving the boy to close the doors behind them. She led him up several flights of steps to the observatory at the top of the tower and knocked sharply at the closed door. "Elder? Kain Highwind is here," she called.

"Send him in, Porom, thank you."

She opened the door to admit Kain, and the scent of dust and old leather rushed out to greet him, a smell Kain had always associated with his tutors when he was younger. he room was huge; surely it must encompass this entire floor of the tower. There were narrow windows on all sides that admitted bands of sunlight, though most of the room's illumination seemed to come from the generous number of lamps on the walls and the tables. It held floor-to-ceiling bookshelves packed with volumes of all shapes and sizes. There were several large tables scattered about the room, each piled high with more books and stacks of scroll cases, and each sat in a pool of light. The chairs were likewise buried in drifts of scrolls, save the one that the rooms' only occupant, an old man clad in the black robes of a Mysidian sage, was using. He rose as Kain entered. He looked like he had once been strong and broad-shouldered, but age had hunched his back until he was a head or more shorter than Kain, and drawn his shoulders inward. He was bald but had a long, full grey beard. Kain advanced three steps and offered the bow of respect reserved for foreign rulers, for if Mysidia had a ruler, surely it was this man.

"Welcome to Mysidia, Kain Highwind. I am pleased to see you returned from Mt. Ordeals." The Elder returned his bow, his gaze straying past Kain to the girl who hovered behind him. "Porom, you may return to your lessons. And if you would, kindly recall your brother to his studies. Livius is growing quite wroth with his inattention." He eased himself back into his chair with a little grunt.

"Yes, Elder." The door creaked shut behind Kain, and Porom's light footsteps faded from hearing. He stayed where he was, unsure how to broach the subject of his return to Baron, and looked about him instead.

Now that he was further into the room, he could see a second man, seated at a desk in the corner behind the door and writing quickly on the scroll spread in front of him. He was younger than the Elder and clad in the same black robes, albeit without the embroidered sash that seemed to mark the Elder's rank within Mysidia. He seemed quite tall and very thin, with a long hooked nose, a weak chin imperfectly concealed behind a short beard, and thin lips. His hair was brown with quite a bit of grey mixed in. He glanced up from the scrolls before him and nodded briefly to Kain. "Greetings, Captain Highwind." He had a soft, reedy voice, one that seemed suited to huddling in libraries with knowledge all about rather than shouting commands on the battlefield. His accent, like the Elder's, was of Mysidia. Behind him was a complicated arrangement of glass bottles and jars, including several that bubbled alarmingly.

"Greetings," Kain replied. Speech felt strange after so long alone on the mountaintop with no conversational partners save the undead.

"Ah. Kain, my assistant, Solon." The Elder gestured at the man in the corner. "He assists me with the governance of the city."

"Not to mention research," Solon remarked.

Kain contented himself with a nod, unsure what response he was expected to make. He had been entirely too long out of court circles, if the easy banter between two mages discomfited him so. Standing between the two of them, he felt rather like a schoolboy called to account for his actions.

"At any rate, Captain, we have awaited your return from the mountain," the Elder said. "King Cecil has already paid your passage on a ship to Baron, and we have letters that your friends in Baron have sent to our care, to hold until such time as you should choose to descend."

"King?" Kain repeated. He wondered if the Elder had already read the letters. It was what he would have done, in the same position.

The Elder smiled. "You have been a long time on Mt. Ordeals, Kain. Cecil has claimed the throne of Baron."

Kain wanted to ask after Rosa, but he feared making himself obvious and casting a shadow upon her. "And when will the next ship sail for Baron?"

"There is one leaving on tomorrow's evening tide." The Elder raised an eyebrow. "You might also consider the use of the Devil's Road."

"No, thank you." Kain mustered a smile. "While I appreciate the offer, I think I will need some time to accustom myself to being around people again."

Solon shuffled through a large bin of scrolls in his corner and extracted a packet of letters, neatly tied up with black cords. "These are the letters for you, Captain. We will make arrangements at the Inn for you to have a room this evening, unless you would prefer to stay in the Tower?"

"I think I would prefer to stay in the Tower," Kain replied, surprising himself. After his time with Golbez, he would have thought he'd avoid any skyward-reaching structure, but the peaceful aura of the Tower of Prayer appealed to him, and he was in no mood for the rowdy atmosphere of a tavern. How rowdy did a tavern full of mages get, anyway?

"Very well. We shall arrange rooms for you." The Elder rose and paced to the windows. "They should be ready in an hour or so."

"That will be fine. Is there somewhere I can go in the meantime? I do not wish to be in the way."

"There is a library downstairs that is open to the public if you enjoy reading, or there are some meditation chambers upstairs—though I suppose you might have had enough of that," Solon said.

Kain shook his head. "I think I would enjoy a chance to meditate," he said.

"This way, then." Solon rose and led the way to the chamber upstairs, which could be opened to the wind—something Kain did as soon as the sage had departed—and otherwise was remarkably like similar spaces in Baron, with a mat on the floor and sticks of incense. He wasn't certain if any of the incense had purposes beyond scent, so he did not light one. Instead, he set aside his belongings and seated himself on the floor, losing himself in the scent of the sea and the many scents—some pleasant and some not—of a town. He would have to grow used to the differences.

A quiet white mage came some two hours later and conducted him to the chamber prepared for him. It was better than might have been allocated to a simple traveler, suggesting that he was being treated as Cecil's foster-brother rather than someone who happened to request shelter. The furniture was well-made and inlaid with different colors of wood in contrasting patterns that he did not recognize. Someone had left a lamp with tinder and flint, unlike the seemingly magic-fueled lights in the hallways, and he had been provided a rack for his armour. A decent amount of care had gone into this room. He wondered if it had been borrowed from the city guard. He hung his armour upon it and busied himself sorting and repacking his few belongings for lack of anything better to do.

The sun had sunk low into the west when he heard a knock on the door. Or, to be more precise, a flurry of taps followed immediately by the door being flung open. The young boy-mage he had met earlier was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. "The Elder says to join him for dinner," he announced.

"Palom!" Porom hurried up behind him, and twisted his ear, which resulted in a dramatic and exaggerated yelp. "Where are your manners?"

Kain rose. "I would be pleased to join the Elder. Could you please direct me to the proper area?"

Palom elbowed his sister in the stomach and wriggled free of her grasp. "It's that way," he said with a too-helpful smile, pointing eastward down the corridor.

"I will take you there, Captain," Porom said loudly, glaring at Palom. "It is this way." She set off in the same direction Palom had indicated. Kain followed her, wondering why Palom was the only person in Mysidia who seemed to resent him. Come to that, he was not entirely sure the boy did resent him; he had gathered the impression from Cecil's description of the two that Palom was mischievous by nature, but thus far he had seemed rather more rude than mischievous.

Porom led him through the grey stone hallways, their footsteps muffled by the carpets underfoot, which were plainer than those in the private areas of Baron Castle and also thinner, possibly because of the warmer climate here. The walls were decorated with tapestries depicting what he could only assume were scenes from Mysidia's history. The Moon was also a prominent theme, and the Lunar Whale ship. Each of the tapestries depicting those images also had the Mysidian Legend woven into the image. Kain's mouth twisted slightly as he read the familiar words, etched into Cecil's sword by KluYa's hand long ago. iOne to be born from a dragon, bearing darkness and light, shall rise to the heavens over the still land. The Moon's light eternal brings a promise to earth with bounty and grace./i

Porom led him to a set of double doors carved with a variation on the same theme: a group of five stood before the Lunar Whale. Kain stopped and stared. The carving was new enough to still have crisp edges, and had been painted in brighter colors than he had seen elsewhere in the Tower. Rydia and Edge were carved to the left, she with a serious expression on her angular face and he with a cocky attitude accented by his smirk. Edge had his hands behind his back, rather than somewhere inappropriate on Rydia's person, which amused Kain. He and Rosa stood to the right, and even in the wooden carving light and goodness seemed to radiate from her. His own image wore bright armour worked with the crest of the Dragon Knights. He wondered that they had not branded him as the traitor he was. Cecil was carved in the center, with the crack between the two doors dividing him precisely in half.

Appropriate, really.

Porom rapped lightly at the door before pushing it open. Kain watched Cecil split in half and shook his head slightly to dispel the sense of foreboding that the action provoked. The double doors led to a vast hall filled with long tables. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, but unlike the ones in Baron, they held no candles; instead, crackling balls of light hung from them that he assumed to be magic. The Elder was standing on a dais at the far end of the room before a smaller table, flanked by Solon on his right and another man in black sage's robes on his left. The second man was a head shorter than the Elder, and quite stout. His iron-grey hair and bushy grey beard stood out around his head in a wild halo. He was laughing uproariously at something Solon had said, while the Elder smiled.

Porom led him between the rows of tables and the mages waiting patiently at them. The dining room seemed to be quite full, but none of them seemed to recognize him in Mysidian garb. The long progress up to the dais reminded Kain most unfortunately of times when he'd been called to King Odin's table in Baron, often for some misdemeanour. He hoped the awkwardness he felt did not show. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Palom strutting behind him, for all the world as though this escort duty made him important. Kain could scarcely believe the number of mages here; he knew that Mysidia was a magic-heavy nation, but there must be ten times as many mages just in this room as Baron could boast in general, ranging in age from children as young as the twins to men and women so old they had grown hunched and frail.

The stout sage beamed at him as he approached, while the Elder offered a polite smile and Solon had a grave expression on his face.

"Welcome, Captain Highwind!" the Elder said loudly, and the chatter in the hall died off. Kain was uncomfortably aware of the pressure of many eyes on him as the mages realized who he was. "Please, join us."

Kain ascended the dais and walked to the empty seat the Elder indicated, to the left of the stout sage. There were three more seats between him and the end of the table, but they were unoccupied. Porom went to Solon's right, ignoring the spectacular faces Palom was making at her. Kain wondered why they merited a seat at the head table; most of the other children seemed to be seated at an apprentices' table below, if the seating arrangement here was similar to Baron's great hall.

"May the blessings of the Moon shine down upon us," the Elder intoned, a benediction echoed by the mages in the room. Everyone seated themselves in unison. Kain found himself two beats behind and could feel himself flushing in embarrassment. He tried to put on a polite court smile to cover it, but did not know who had noticed.

The man next to him offered his hand, and pumped Kain's vigorously when Kain completed the shake. "Pleasure to meet you, Captain. I'm Livius, the Elder's other assistant. I keep these rogues in line for him, you see." He had an open, infectious smile.

"Pleasure to meet you," Kain responded automatically. A handful of mages were circulating, bringing platters of roasted meats and baked vegetables to the tables. Kain recognized chicken and pork, as well as spinach, carrots, and onions. Mysidians ate simply, but they seemed to have a plentiful supply of foodstuffs.

"They take turns cooking and cleaning," Livius remarked, inclining his head toward the pair of apprentices who were carrying bowls of mashed potatoes and green beans up to the dais. "Helps us keep things in check. Though some of them, I vow," and the sage tilted his head in the general direction of Palom, "are more trouble in the kitchen than out."

Kain chuckled a little. In Baron, he would have used his belt knife to serve himself, but it appeared that in Mysidia they provided very large forks on the serving platters. He dropped his hand from the hilt of his knife and hoped no one had noticed. It was a little more awkward to use the fork, but he managed to transfer two slices of chicken without making to much of a mess. "Cecil and I were a bit like that when we were young," he remarked.

Livius poured himself a generous glass of wine, and filled Kain's cup as well. The Elder's table boasted fine glass, while the cups at the other tables seemed to be made of metal. Kain couldn't tell from this distance what beverages were served below, not over the smell of the unfamiliar spices on the meat. "You've been living atop Mt. Ordeals, I hear," Livius said.

"I needed some time for contemplation." Kain reminded himself that Livius was not necessarily prying, nor trying to insinuate unsavoury activities, and worked to keep his tone civil. It wouldn't do to start irritating the Mysidians all over again, if indeed they had forgiven Baron for their earlier transgressions. Many of the mages at the tables below the dais were studying him as they ate. Some pretended otherwise, but he could sense their irritation. It reminded him of the stares of the men and women who would inherit the Great Houses in Baron, watching as he and Cecil were promoted as wards of the King and eventual heirs.

"The mountain's a good place for thinking, if you can get past the undead," Livius agreed. "I'd imagine you're feeling a bit starved for news, though."

Kain shrugged. "I don't know that I'd say I'm starved for it, but I would appreciate an overview. You seem like a man who keeps himself informed of current news."

Livius guffawed and quaffed half his wine at a gulp. "I must admit I'm a shameless gossip, asking questions of everyone. Ah well. Let's see now. Cecil Harvey rules Baron, with his queen Rosa, but I'd imagine you'd know that."

"I could guess," Kain murmured, studying his plate to hide his wince at the reference to Rosa's wedding.

"The Prince of Eblan has taken the throne of his kingdom now. Supposedly he's going to marry some girl from a mountain village nobody's ever heard of. Mist or some such."

Kain raised an eyebrow. "I know about Mist, Livius-as I'd imagine you do."

"Guilty as charged." Livius laughed, and Kain had the sense he had been tested. He wished he knew whether he had passed or failed. "But few outside Mysidia have heard of it, excepting those of you who went to the Moon. The villagers kept to themselves."

"Yes," Kain murmured, thinking of the picturesque little mountain village that he and Cecil had destroyed, hidden behind the thick mists that permeated the cave leading into it. If he hadn't stepped in on Cecil's behalf when Cagnazzo had ordered him to carry the package, he might not have ended up unconscious in the ruins of Mist, and perhaps he might have evaded Golbez's control. He picked up his glass and drank from it, trying to control the shudder that wanted to run down his back. The scars Barbariccia had given him twinged.

Still, the notion of Edge marrying Rydia brought a faint smile to his face. He imagined the two of them would send all other inhabitants of Eblan Castle scurrying for cover when they indulged in one of their spectacular shouting matches. Kain found those amusing, if only because Rydia could wind Edge up so thoroughly in his own inconsistencies and leave the ninja sputtering and flailing ineffectually. Granted, they had been rather less amusing at two in the morning when he was trying to get some sleep on the cold, rocky soil of the Moon.

"Captain?" Livius asked, in the tone of a man who has had to repeat himself several times. Kain shook himself out of his reverie.

"I apologize. I was woolgathering." He pasted the polite court smile back on his face. "You were saying?"

Livius wore a faintly patronizing smile. "You really have been alone on that mountain too long, haven't you?" Kain flinched at the reminder. Livius chuckled and transferred another slice of meat to his plate, much easier with the serving fork than Kain had been. "The High Monk Yang rules in Fabul. I think those are all the shufflings of royalty that have happened in the last two years. Other than that, nothing to compare to your adventures on the Moon."

Kain frowned a little. "What of the Underworld?"

"What of it?" Livius shrugged. "They have returned to their affairs, and we to ours. Though the King of the Dwarves did attend King Cecil's wedding and coronation."

"Indeed," Kain murmured. "I imagine everyone did."

"Oh, yes. It was the affair of the year. And Queen Rosa looked stunning; I heard it took six months to make her gown." Livius began to wax rhapsodic about the attire, the pomp and ceremony of the wedding, and the gastronomic delights of the accompanying feast. Kain turned his attention to his meal, interjecting the occasional innocuous mumble and keeping a politely attentive expression on his face. The Elder seemed in a deep conversation with Solon and Porom, and Palom appeared to be amusing himself by making faces at the apprentices below when he wasn't flicking bits of food at Porom, until he missed and hit Solon and was summarily banished from the table. Kain tried to ignore the continued stares of the mages at the communal tables as he ate. The spices on the meat were hotter than he was familiar with, and he was relieved to find a pitcher of water within easy reach, for he did not want to consume too much wine. The mashed potatoes were less creamy than those made in Baron, but still tasty, and the green beans were fresh and crisp.

The meal eventually wound to a close, and the dinner plates were taken away to be replaced with some holding a delicious berry pie. After so long on the mountain, eating only what he could hunt and gather, even a simple meal he hadn't needed to cook followed by a dessert seemed decadent to Kain.

At the center of the table, the Elder rose and gestured to him. Kain followed the Elder through the aisle between the tables, painfully aware of the stares that followed him, and out the same door by which he'd entered. He nearly ran into the older man when he halted abruptly only a few feet in front of the Dragoon. "Captain Highwind, there is somewhat I would speak of to you, if you do not mind," the Elder said, turning to look up at him. No one had followed them out of the hall; that did not mean no one had heard. Kain wondered how many people were observing unseen.

"Certainly, Elder." Kain followed the Elder back up to the upper floors of the tower, where the Elder swept scroll cases off a chair to provide him with a space to sit. The Elder himself did not take a seat, choosing instead to pace parallel to the western wall, limned in ruddy light from the glorious sunset outside every time he passed one of the narrow windows. Kain watched him without speaking. If nothing else, he had learned a tolerance for silence upon the mountain of trials.

The Elder halted at the far side of the room and turned to face him. His expression was unreadable, but Kain noted that he stood with his back to a bookshelf, with one arm behind him that might have held a weapon. The ceiling was not high enough for Kain to jump properly, and he found himself missing his spear. "Forgive me for being blunt, Captain, but I must ask. Do you intend to wreak further havoc upon your return to Baron? The peace there is tenuous at best, and the work of rebuilding after Cagnazzo's ravages proceeds slowly. I cannot in conscience allow you to return if it is your will to upset that balance."

Kain didn't know what he had expected the Elder to speak of, but of a surety, it was not that. He shook his head, almost without realizing it, and made sure to keep his arms loose, away from his sides. "I do not intend to upset anything, Elder. I wish to go home for a short time. I wish to see how Cecil fares, and Rosa. After that, I do not know what I will do, but I have no intention of disrupting anything Cecil has built these two years past."

The Elder nodded. Kain could not tell whether he believed him or not, but his arm came out from behind his back, with no weapon, and he took a few steps closer to Kain. "Very well, then. I hope you are not offended by my question."

"No." Kain smiled grimly. "It is precisely what I would ask, were I in your place."

"Good." The Elder did not smile. Kain was too tired to try to parse this conversation; he did not know if the Elder had expected him to attack. "I will send someone to wake you in the morning, so that you do not miss your ship."

Acknowledging the tacit dismissal, Kain rose and bowed politely, as he would have to King Odin. On his way out, he passed Solon, struggling under the weight of a large pile of scroll cases. "Elder, I found those scrolls on summoning you were looking for," he heard Solon say as the door closed behind him.

He made his way to his room, nodding politely to the mages he passed in the hallway, some of whom had stared at him during the uncomfortable meal. None returned the politeness. His room was dimly lit with a crimson glow, the last vestiges of sunlight creeping in the window, where already darkness held dominion over the sky. The bed had been turned down, and the lamp had been left burning very low. He paused to check over his armour one last time before undressing and lying down on the bed.

He spent a long time lying there, in a bed far more comfortable than his bedroll on the mountain, staring up at the wooden beams that supported the stone ceiling, before sleep claimed him at last. It spirited him away to a dream-world filled with images of Barbariccia spinning in midair, her blonde hair a whiplash across his bare skin, while in the background Golbez's laughter echoed endlessly.


	2. Homecoming

Chapter Two

Homecoming

Kain stood in the prow of the _Moon's Blessing_, gazing at Ostia Harbour as it rose up in the east, a towering mass of grey stone clearly defined against the horizon. The wind ruffled his hair, thick and sticky with salt spray. He focused on the tiny dark figures on the docks, milling about like a colony of ants. They gradually grew larger as the ship approached, recognizably men and women who went about their daily business.

Behind him, the sailors shouted to each other, their words torn away by the swift wind that snapped the canvas sails in their rope bonds. Kain tilted his head back, staring up into the endless blue expanse of sky. _Are you up there somewhere, Valvalicia, drifting on the whims of some wind? Or have you gone to Hell as a fiend rightly should? _He thought he saw a hint of her shape in a rippling cumulus cloud, a suggestion of flowing hair and a voluptuous shape. Her lips had always been cool against his skin, the sense of air flowing all around them even in a closed room as she moved on top of him, her hair whipping in a vortex of wind. The direction of his thoughts led him to a predictable physical response, and he damned her influence over him for the thousandth time.

They drew closer to the shore. The sailors scrambled about to adjust sails at the helmsman's direction as he guided the ship alongside the escort boat. Kain simply stood watching as his homeland drew closer. All told, he'd been gone from Baron nearly three years, not counting their very brief sojourn for Rydia to learn to summon King Odin's spirit. Much could change in even a few months.

The ship docked, and Kain went belowdecks to retrieve his few belongings. A few of the sailors nodded to him as he passed, and he forced himself to smile and nod back. It was hardly their fault that he was so unaccustomed to any human company that the ship felt like more of a prison than ever Golbez's dungeons had.

Over the course of the three-week sea voyage, he had read over the packet of letters his friends had sent during his self-imposed exile on Mt. Ordeals. It had taken him days to summon the courage to approach them, for fear that he would find within their pages an endless font of recriminations and accusations, but it seemed he had misjudged them. Rydia had sent two very sharp-toned missives, berating him for shutting himself away when what he needed was to be around people in order to heal. _If you want forgiveness, then have the spine to step forth and ask for it,_ she had written in her angular, slanted script.

Cid's single letter had covered three times as much paper as both of Rydia's combined, rambling about the new airships he was building, and a short postscript threatening dire harm if he continued to upset Cecil and Rosa this way. Cecil had written three letters, his plain clear handwriting a relief to Kain's eyes after Cid's untidy scrawl. He wrote of various developments within Baron, of rebuilding the country and undoing the harm Caignozzio had caused. The Dragoons prospered, he wrote, wanting only a strong captain to lead them again. Kain snorted and set that aside; he had no intention of resuming command of the Dragoons. Baron did not need a traitor to lead its elite forces. Such a thing would be foolish in the extreme. A man who had so easily fallen to the influence of evil was not to be trusted in a position of command; what if he were to slay the King and take the Queen for his own, or influence Cecil to continue the wars Golbez had begun?

He had read Rosa's five letters slowly, then re-read them again several times. He fancied that the parchment smelled faintly of her perfume, lilies and roses. She wrote in a flowing, elegant hand, legacy of her tutoring as a nobleman's daughter. Where Cecil wrote of his hopes that Kain would return and resume command of the Dragon Knights, Rosa wrote of simpler things: how the fields were lush and green again, the simple peace of spending a spring evening atop the towers of the castle, with the land of Baron spread all around. _I hope to see you soon, but do not rush to return on our account. You must do what is best for you. Cecil prays daily for your swift return. I pray you will find the peace you seek. Stay safe. We miss you. _He had had to set the letter aside then, swallowing hard against an unaccustomed lump in his throat. Why did she have to be so damned forgiving and understanding? It only made his own failings the more obvious.

He gathered the letters and packed them neatly in his bag once again. It did not seem right to leave them behind, though he was not entirely certain he would keep them, once ashore. Finally, with no small amount of nervousness, he once again donned his Dragoon armour. It was easier to wear the armour rather than carry it, and he was still technically a Dragon Knight. The steel felt heavier than usual as he settled the pieces in place.

He made his thanks to the captain of the ship and made his way down onto the wharf, dodging the handlers unloading cargo from this and other ships recently arrived at the port. He could rent a chocobo from the stable here in town, or perhaps take a chocobo coach to Baron City. He turned toward the western side of town and walked swiftly, ignoring the catcalls of the prostitutes that plagued the dock district and dodging the efforts of a footpad who sought the contents of his purse.

"Kain!" The booming voice preceded the powerful slap to his shoulder by mere seconds, and was followed by a grunt of pain at the contact between flesh and steel. Kain staggered under the force of the greeting, barely keeping himself from lashing out with his weapon as he turned.

He saw a large, stockily built man with bushy red hair, a voluminous red beard, and enormous thick glasses beaming at him. "Cid," he managed to say. He had been hoping to get through Ostia and up to Baron City without meeting any of his old friends; it would have given him time to get used to the land again.

"You're just in time to get a ride back to Baron City with me. I was here pickin' up some materials for my new class of airship. Dragon class, they'll be! And you've gotta see the improvements I've made to the _Falcon_ and the rest of the Red Wings!"

Cid grabbed Kain by the arm and hauled him off through the controlled chaos of the wharves, chattering the whole way. Kain remained silent. He was reminded of the times when he was a small child, tagging after Cid in the airship yards as the engineer fiddled with this piece or that, always trying to improve his "babies." King Odin had once said, laughing, that he only need worry when Kain _wasn't_ tagging after Cid or watching the Dragon Knights train, for it meant he was somewhere with Cecil, doubtless engaged in some mischief.

Cid led him to a beauty of an airship, gleaming pale oak and bright mythril trim, with the name _Lady Fortune_ emblazoned on the side in elegant, stylized black script. It was a slim, sleek model, clearly designed for speed rather than cargo capacity. Kain took a moment to admire the design before climbing the ladder up to the deck. Cid had already gone ahead and was berating one of the technicians. Kain caught snatches of the tirade amid the clanging of the crew preparing the ship. "Retarded chocobos are more skilled . . . don't suppose I could've got a crew with the sense of a half-eaten grape . . . be making adjustments to the autopilot system without sufficient crew on board to handle it if this dunderheaded plan had gone awry!" He smothered a grin. Cid hadn't changed a whit.

The technician being duly chastised, Cid wasted little time in getting the ship off the ground. It sliced through the air, heading toward Baron. Kain marveled at the speed of it, nearly half again swifter than the _Falcon_ they had used previously. The wind streamed past him, far cooler here than in Mysidia, even in the height of Baron's summer. The air rushing over his skin brought to mind memories of Valvalicia, who had delighted in taking him soaring above the clouds whenever the whim struck her; he had never been quite sure if she planned to return him safely to the tower or if her sense of humour would lead her to drop him from dizzying heights just to see how well his Dragoon training handled it.

"She's a beauty, ain't she?" Cid asked from just behind his shoulder, and Kain started in surprise, having nearly forgotten the presence of the crew.

"An improvement over the older models," Kain replied.

"We'll be home to Baron City in about four hours." Cid grinned at the expression on Kain's face.

"Four hours to cover a two days' journey on a chocobo? You really have improved them."

Cid slapped him on the shoulder and moved off to harangue another of his crew about the way he was handling the rudder. Kain leaned on the rail and watched Baron fly past underneath them. When he had ridden airships under Golbez's command, the smallfolk of Baron had run to hide themselves from the airship, lest they should attract the attention of Golbez to their settlement. It had not sat well with Kain, for King Odin had taught him and Cecil that terrorizing the smallfolk was a good way to find oneself quickly dethroned. He was pleased to see that children were jumping and pointing up at the airship, calling to each other to see it whip past.

The journey passed uneventfully, and they landed just to the south of Baron City in mid-afternoon. Cid strode up to where Kain was standing, looking at the city with a mixture of longing and reluctance. "Come on, we'll rent a pair of chocobos to take ourselves through the city. Cecil and Rosa will want to see you."

Kain mumbled something noncommittal and followed Cid down off the airship, where the crew was unloading boxes of supplies. Cid left his first mate in charge of the unloading and headed straight for the livery stable at the edge of the city. A few moments later, he had the reins of two large, docile chocobos in hand.

"Well, let's go!" Cid heaved himself into one chocobo's saddle. Kain mounted the other and turned it toward the long, broad boulevard that bisected Baron City north to south, running the full length of the city.

The accents of his homeland fell strangely on his ears, after two years of solitude and the company of Mysidian sailors on the ship. Here in the city, he could smell neither forest nor sea nor the rotting hulks of undead. He didn't miss the stench of the latter, but it was strange to smell so many _people_ all around. The smells of cooking, of discarded night soil and animals assaulted his nose. Mysidia, for all its heat, had been a far cleaner city. Kain could barely identify the streets they rode past. It felt as though he'd been gone far longer than two years.

They made their way through the main market of Baron, crowded now with vendors crying their wares and buyers strolling from stall to stall, pretending disinterest in the goods they bargained for. The raucous sounds of so many people shouting and talking assaulted his ears, and Kain had to fight the urge to clap his hands over his ears to block it out. He clutched tighter at his chocobo's reins, wondering if it might not be a better idea to turn tail and flee back to the mountains. Cid seemed unaffected by the din, bellowing greetings at people as they passed. Kain recognized a few of them as those who worked with Cid in the airship yards, whose footsteps he had dogged as a child until finally the time had come for him to begin training with the Dragoons.

Slowly they made their way up the long, gentle slope that led to the castle, built on the highest point of land at Baron City. As they drew closer to the castle, the streets grew quieter. The houses were taller and more elegantly designed, spaced farther apart on the streets. Here nobles vied for space facing the main boulevard. Kain saw one household which was hosting a party of some sort, the garden filled with young women in bright dresses flitting about like a flock of confused butterflies.

They came to the end of the city and the slope of the road grew steeper as the chocobos plodded up the last half-mile toward the massive stone walls of the castle. The wooden gates, built of the trunks of many trees lashed together with iron bands and pegs, were partially open. He saw four soldiers in the familiar uniforms of Baron posted outside the open side of the gates, keeping an alert watch on the road. They waved at Cid as he approached.

"Afternoon, Cid!" one called.

"Hey there. Busy day?" Cid reined in his chocobo, and Kain drew his to a halt behind Cid's. The bird bobbed its head irritably. Kain scratched at its neck, and it warked at him.

"Not so much. Who's your friend?" A second guard took two steps forward and peered up at Kain. His eyes widened. "Is this…?"

"I'm Kain Highwind," Kain said quietly. The guard's eyes widened before he seemed to recall himself and snapped to attention, saluting.

"Welcome back to Baron, Captain Highwind, sir!" he said.

Kain blinked. The other three guards were also saluting. "At ease," he said awkwardly, and looked at Cid.

"Well, let's go. The King will want to see you." Cid nudged his chocobo, and the bird obediently moved forward. Kain steered his own chocobo after Cid, thinking of the number of times his tutors had said those same words to him--usually when the cook complained of tarts missing from the kitchen, or some similar piece of mischief.

Cid dismounted in the courtyard, handing the reins off to one of the stable boys. "See that that gets returned to the livery stable at the south gate," he told the lad, handing over a few Gil. "His too." He jerked his head in Kain's general direction.

Kain swung his leg over the chocobo's back and dropped to the ground, his armour clanking faintly as he did so. A second stable boy ran up to take his chocobo's reins. He adjusted his bag of possessions over his shoulder and followed Cid toward the inner gate of the castle, which stood wide open to admit whatever traffic passed through the outer courtyard.

Amid the many greetings heaped upon Cid, he saw several suspicious glances cast at him, men whose faces he vaguely recognized. Some had been under Cecil's command before the incident at Mist. He did not see any Dragon Knights, which made him wonder about Cecil's letter stating he needed a new captain for the elite troops.

"Is there somewhere I can clean up?" he asked Cid. "It's not exactly polite to appear in front of the King this way."

Cid paused and glanced back over his shoulder. "Yeah, you can use the workshop, I guess. I don't know if your rooms are prepared." He detoured off to the right, and Kain followed him through the winding hallways until they reached the oil-spattered workshop that was Cid's domain.

There was little enough he could do to improve his appearance in a short time, but he could at least remove the worst of the grime from his armour with an oiled rag. As Cid slept in his workshop more often than not, there was a small bathing chamber in an alcove. Kain managed to rinse the worst of the salt from his hair and skin, shivering at the chill of the water, and change into the one set of clothes he'd kept folded neatly in his bag so as not to get them coated in salt. Cid waited impatiently for the first five minutes, but then got distracted by a set of plans on a nearby table, and left Kain to finish his ablutions in relative peace.

Having managed to tame his hair into some semblance of order, Kain donned his armour once more and took a slow, deep breath to prepare himself. "Cid?"

"What? What? Oh, you're ready? About time." Cid set down the plans and nodded briskly. "Let's go, then."

Cid headed straight for the throne room, waving cheerfully at those who greeted him but not stopping to chat. Cid barged right through the castle without bothering to announce himself until he reached the guards in the reception room outside Cecil's throne room. "Halt!" one of them shouted, reaching out his sword to bar the way as his partner did the same. "State your name and business."

"I'm Cid Pollendina, you blind bat, and I'm here to bring a visitor to the King!" Kain could have sworn Cid's hair and beard stood even more on end than usual at being questioned.

The guard's gaze turned toward Kain. Kain saw recognition dawn on his features, followed by an ugly scowl. "It is generally not a good idea, Engineer, to bring armed traitors into the throne room," the guard said.

Cid was reduced to outraged stuttering at this development. Kain sighed. "Did you truly expect the men entrusted with His Majesty's safety to simply let me in?" Kain glanced covertly to his left and right, to see if the guards had yet summoned aid.

"Well then let me in, you nimrods, and we'll see what the King thinks of this!" Cid shouted, finally managing to put his sentiments into coherent syllables.

"You, yes. The traitor, no." The guard glared at Kain, who deliberately took five steps backward. The second guard opened the door to the throne room barely wide enough for Cid to squeeze through, and both of them bracketed him as he did so, slamming the door shut in his wake and immediately resuming their guard positions. Kain ignored them. He could destroy the entire castle guard with minimal effort, did he so choose. Bloodshed at this juncture would be in poor taste, and useless besides. Instead, he stood at attention and started reciting the names of the captains of the Dragon Knights to himself in chronological order. The last time he had waited thus outside the doors of the throne room, Cecil had been presenting the Water Crystal to the false King. Kain forced away the shudder that rippled down his spine and resumed his mental recitation. The four Fiends were dead; their power held no sway over Baron now.

A loud thump on the door echoed through the antechamber. "Admit Captain Highwind immediately, by order of the King!" Cid shouted from the other side.

"Lay down your weapon," one of the guards said, gesturing vaguely with his blade.

Kain made a significant show of setting his spear against the wall and holding up his hands to display them empty. He did not feel it particularly necessary to notify the guards of the dagger in his boot or the knife at his belt. If they cared enough to ask, that would be another matter entirely.

They did not, and they grudgingly stepped forward to open the door. Cid was waiting just inside, all but hopping up and down with impatience. Kain repressed a groan upon realizing that the throne room was filled with noblemen. He had chosen an ill day to return, indeed.

He followed Cid up the aisle between the noblemen. As soon as he emerged from the crowd, Cecil sprang to his feet, obviously ready to rush down off the dais. Kain went to one knee. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing his head. "I apologize profoundly for disrupting your audience." He could hear the muttering of the nobles behind him.

Cecil checked his rush, but he did continue down the stairs. "Rise, Captain Highwind," he said formally.

Kain stood, and Cecil gave him a solid thump on the shoulder by way of greeting. Kain grimaced slightly. He was clearly going to need more padding beneath his armour if this sort of greeting was going to be customary. The old padding had worn thin during their travels.

Kain struggled to keep his gaze from the woman descending the steps from the dais with a slightly waddling gait that was completely unlike the light, graceful steps he remembered. Rosa smiled up at him, her hands resting lightly on the mound of her stomach protruding beneath her white gown.

"Welcome home, Kain," she said, holding out her arms.

Rather than respond to her open welcome, he went to his knees once more, head bowed. "Your Majesty."

Rosa smiled her same sweet smile. "I'm so glad you've come back. Are you feeling better now?"

"Let's discuss this where we can all sit down. You especially," Cecil said, resting one hand lightly on Rosa's shoulder. She held out her hand to Kain once more.

Kain shook off the shock of seeing her again, and seeing her so obviously pregnant, and took her hand to kiss it. "My apologies for my deplorable lack of courtesy, King Cecil, Queen Rosa," he said formally, aware of the glares of the throne room guards behind him.

"Let us sit and finish the day's business," Rosa said quietly. "I think we all have many things we need to discuss."

Cecil seemed ready to protest. Rosa squeezed his hand and he sighed. "Find a seat for Captain Highwind," he instructed the nearest of his guards.

The guard led Kain to a seat in the back of the throne room, where he could see naught beyond the silk-clad backsides of Baron's nobility. It did not matter. Had he been questioned on the proceedings, he would have been hard-pressed to name the complaints brought forth.

He knew they had wed. He had made his peace with it, or so he thought. Yet when he envisioned his homecoming, he had not thought that he would be faced so immediately with the results of that marriage. He wondered what had driven him to leave the peace of Mt. Ordeals behind. Each place he had been since his departure had been progressively harder to bear. Perhaps he was best suited to a life of contemplation after all.

He shook himself out of his reverie in time to hear Cecil dismiss the audience. He rose with the nobles to bow to the King, who proceeded down the central aisle with his Queen beside him.

"Captain Highwind," Cecil said, pausing next to him. "It would please us if you would accompany us, and tell us of your travels."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Kain said, bowing and holding the bow as Cecil and Rosa left the throne room. He waited until they had passed through the wide double doors before following.

He found the King and Queen stopped in the antechamber. Cecil was studying Kain's spear where it stood propped against the wall. "Captain Highwind," he said, and Kain winced.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"May I inquire as to how the Captain of the Dragon Knights proposes to defend the King without his weapon?"

"Your Majesty, I acceded to the wishes of your guards in leaving my weapon here."

"Take up your weapon, Captain."

Kain retrieved his spear and resumed his place at the end of the King's procession.

Cecil and Rosa slowly led the way to the eastern tower, flanked by a half-dozen of the Palace Guard and the same number of ladies-in-waiting. Kain followed them silently, observing as the guards they passed saluted Cecil respectfully. He also noticed that many of the guards with senior rank insignia gave him looks ranging from wary to outright distrustful. He didn't blame them. He'd have looked at a traitor the same way.

The procession paused just outside an oak door elaborately carved with the crossed swords of Baron's crest. Rosa turned to her ladies-in-waiting with a smile. "Please leave us," she said. They curtsied and departed.

Cecil led the way into the chamber, nodding to his guards to remain outside. The King's suite appeared little changed from King Odin's day. The room was furnished in an informal style, with heavy but comfortable couches.

Kain remained standing while Cecil and Rosa seated themselves on one of the couches. An awkward silence descended upon the room, broken only by the occasional sound of the guards shifting outside the door.

"Will you sit?" Rosa asked him quietly.

"Your Majesty has bidden me remain armed, that I might defend him." In truth, he was grateful that the helm concealed his face from them, and any expression that might betray him. Still, he took care not to look overlong at the Queen.

Cecil made an impatient noise and rose to his feet. "Stop being so absurd, and let me help you with that." He reached for the fastenings of Kain's cuirass.

It was strange, to have another's help as he removed the layers of steel armour. He had grown so accustomed to the awkward process of donning and removing the armour by himself that he had nigh forgotten how much more smoothly the process went with assistance.

There was an armour rack in a small niche off to the side. Slowly the armour took shape there until the entire mass was properly arranged. Kain avoided Cecil's eyes as they worked, and said nothing. Several times it appeared that Cecil might be about to speak, but each time he opened his mouth, Kain busied himself fussing with a piece of armour. At length Cecil ceased trying, and devoted his attention to arranging the armour just so on the stand.

A maid was just setting a tray of tea and dainty sandwiches on the table when they returned to Rosa. The maid bobbed a quick curtsy to the King and Queen, but Kain noticed that she was staring at him as she hurried out, pulling the door shut behind her.

Rosa poured herself a cup of tea, and then poured a second. He watched as she added two spoonfuls of sugar and a twist of lemon. She offered the second cup of tea to him. He took it with a smile and thanks, vaguely bemused that she remembered how he took his tea. Cecil poured himself tea and took one of the sandwiches, sitting back on the sofa.

The awkward silence descended once more, broken only by the faint sounds of tea being drunk and the clink of cups against saucers. Kain waited them out, forcing himself not to watch Rosa, though he was aware of her every motion.

"Did you find what you sought on Mt. Ordeals, Kain?" she asked him at last, setting her teacup down. Beside her, Cecil shifted restlessly. She rested one hand on his knee, her golden eyes intent on Kain's face.

"I don't know." Kain drank the last of his tea and set the cup aside. "It is very peaceful up there."

"If one discounts the undead roaming about," Cecil muttered.

"They left me alone, for the most part. They do not go near your father's sanctuary."

"Did you go in?" Cecil asked, frowning slightly.

"No. That is your place, and your father's. I stayed outside."

"All winter?" Cecil's voice held a note of protest. "Twice?"

"I had a cabin." Kain shrugged.

"You should have come down and stayed in Mysidia," Cecil said reproachfully. "The Elder would have given you a place to stay."

"Cecil," Rosa murmured. "That wasn't the point."

Kain looked at her, surprised. She smiled at him. He couldn't help noticing that once again, she had her hands folded over her stomach, as though to reassure herself that her child was still there.

"There is nothing particularly interesting to speak of regarding my time at Mt. Ordeals," he said. "What has been happening here?"

Cecil launched into a discourse about the process of reviving Baron and rebuilding its armies, air fleets, and everything else that had gone awry both under Caignozzio's unfortunate stewardship, and the months when they had all been gone and no one had remained to run the country. Kain listened intently, making appropriate comments. Cecil had always been one for ideals, even as a Dark Knight, trusting in the loyalty of the people of Baron and the system of laws and taxes to support itself. His idealism shone clearly in each of the improvements he proposed. Kain could not but wonder how the nobility was handling these proposed changes. His memory of Baron was of a staid, formal atmosphere, ill inclined to change. He kept those thoughts to himself, not wanting to darken his homecoming with unpleasant thoughts.

When Cecil at last ran out of improvements or planned projects to discuss, the sun was sinking and the room had grown darker. Rosa looked outside. "It will be dinnertime soon. Cecil, will you help me up?"

Cecil immediately jumped to his feet and offered his hand to help her up. Once on her feet, she turned to Kain. "Please join us this evening. We have missed you. Will you be staying here now?"

"I don't know," he said, and saw her smile dim. Cecil frowned. "I don't know if this is where I belong."

"Of course it's where you belong. This is your home!" Cecil's frown deepened into a full-blown scowl.

"You always have a place here," Rosa said, "whether you stay or go."

"Thank you." Kain bowed to both of them. "Ah, if I'm to join this dinner this evening…"

"All of your old things have been moved to the top floor of the western tower," Rosa said with a smile. "We've been saving it for you."

Cecil's old quarters. Kain forced a smile. "Thank you, Rosa." He waited for them to leave, Rosa leaning heavily on Cecil's arm, before he retrieved his armaments and headed for the west tower.

All in all, the castle had not changed much in his absence, save for the faces he saw as he crossed the courtyard. He ascended the stairs in the west tower to the top floor, passing his old rooms on the way. When he entered Cecil's old room, there was a maid smoothing down the bed linens. She offered him a hasty curtsy. "Welcome back to Baron, Captain Highwind."

"Thank you." Kain smiled at her. The maid curtsied again and hurried out of the room.

Kain set his armour on the stand that had been provided, where once Cecil's black steel armour had hung, and looked around him at his new quarters. The little touches that had made this room Cecil's had vanished, replaced by his own belongings. He had little difficulty imagining Cecil and Rosa moving the small keepsakes themselves, rearranging them just so. The miniature of his father sat on the dresser, painstakingly dusted. Next to it was a small glass box containing his mother's locket. There was a tall, narrow wooden case in the corner that contained his father's ceremonial spear, hung with seven of the crimson tassels that signified honours bestowed by the king. No other Dragon Knight in Baron's history had earned so many.

His own spear was remarkably bare of the same.

He removed the wrinkled, worn clothing from his bag and dumped it into the corner. He would have to remember to have the maid take it down to the laundry tomorrow.

The windows drew his attention next, and he walked over and opened the shutters. He could see half of Baron City from here, the buildings tinted red in the glow of sunset. It was something of a relief to be home, to smell the familiar scents of Baron and hear the accents he'd known all his life once more.

However, he couldn't shake the feeling that this homecoming was going far too smoothly, anxious throne room guards notwithstanding. He had expected rather more resentment. After all, the false king had ruled with an iron hand for that last year, and Kain had served him loyally and well. Cecil's kingship he could understand; Cecil had been Odin's unofficial heir for many years before Caignozzio slew the King. He could also understand why Cecil, Rosa, and Cid would welcome him home. It was the people of Baron who concerned them. The nobility had not been best pleased with his actions during Golbez's interregnum. After all, forces under his command had devastated Damcyan, nearly wiped out Fabul, and crushed Eblan.

He shrugged off such thoughts and turned to the dresser, rummaging for fresh clothing before heading downstairs into the bathing rooms in the basement. Decades ago some engineer had discovered hot springs in the caverns beneath the castle and had tapped into them to provide the castle with a perennial supply of hot water for bathing. Kain stripped and slid into the bath, sighing deeply as he sank into hot water up to his chin. Mt. Ordeals had a great deal to recommend it in the way of solitude, but not as much in the way of amenities such as regular baths. He had had quite enough of bathing in icy mountain streams for now.

He bathed himself and shaved away three weeks' growth of beard before dressing in fresh clothing. He returned to his room to set his much-worn garments aside for the laundry. As he passed the mirror, he caught a glimpse of himself and stopped, surprised. It had been quite a while since he'd seen his own reflection in aught save a rippling mountain pool, or else encased in armour. He looked far older than he remembered looking before the journey to Mist. Much had happened, true, but he was still surprised.

He returned to the main area of the castle, where a very young soldier in the castle livery saluted him. "Good evening, Captain Highwind. The King asked that you join him for supper. This way, please."

Slightly bemused, Kain followed the eager young man. He hadn't been gone from Baron so long that he'd forgotten where the formal dining rooms were.

His escort led him to the smallest of the formal dining rooms, which seated about twelve if Kain recalled correctly. The doors to the room were closed. His escort rapped sharply upon the door, which opened immediately.

His escort gestured him in. As Kain stepped through the portal, the guard inside drew a deep breath and spoke in a loud voice designed to cut through the chatter in the room. "Captain Kain Highwind, of the Dragon Knights of Baron!" he announced.

The room fell instantly silent.

Kain saw four nobles sitting frozen in their seats, some in the midst of raising wineglasses to their lips. Across from them were some of Rosa's ladies-in-waiting; he dimly recognized the plumpest as being Lord Vyran's eldest daughter, but could not recall her name. Also seated among them was Rosa's aunt, Violet Farrell, who bore a striking resemblance to her niece. The others were strangers to him. Rosa was seated at the foot of the table, and Cecil at the head. Kain bowed first to the King, and then to the Queen.

"Please, sit," Cecil said, gesturing at a seat to his right. The nobles glared at him as he made his way around the table to the indicated seat. Kain bit back a sigh.

Once he was seated, Cecil rose and held up his glass. "A toast to welcome back my very dear friend, Kain Highwind!"

The nobles rose dutifully, lifting their glasses to the toast before drinking. Kain took the barest sip of wine. It was going to be a very long dinner.

Even for a formal dinner, conversation was horribly stilted. It seemed the nobles had been making noise recently about how someone should be appointed permanently to lead the Dragon Knights, and each had his own candidate to present. Kain kept his mouth shut and concentrated on not looking at any of them, praying that Cecil would have the good sense to keep silent. The last thing this dinner needed was an incident based on Cecil spontaneously restoring him to the position.

"But really, King Cecil, something needs to be done." Lord Vyran's multiple chins were wobbling as he gestured with his fork. It seemed he had only grown fatter during their absence--a remarkable feat, given his corpulence during their youth, when he had served as their tutor for a year. "The Dragon Knights are the pride of Baron. They need a strong leader. You have been putting us off for two years with vague mentions of something to be done, and have yet to do so!"

"I appreciate your concern, Lord Vyran. In fact, I have been reviewing candidates--" Cecil's conciliatory speech was interrupted by a sharp, wordless sound from Rosa's end of the table. She looked up at Cecil with wide golden eyes.

"I think…I need to go lie down," she said, her gaze fixed intently on Cecil's face. He paled slightly. Kain felt his stomach clutch in a moment of sheer panic. Only when he felt the pain in his hand did he realize how hard he had gripped the arm of his chair.

"My lords, please feel free to stay and finish your dinner," Cecil said graciously as he rose and hurried to Rosa's end of the table. The nobles scrambled to their feet, Lord Vyran nearly upsetting his chair as he heaved his bulk out of it. "Kain, if you would?"

Kain rose and set his napkin aside, forcing himself to walk slowly and calmly toward the King and Queen. He and Cecil helped Rosa up and Cecil escorted her from the room with an arm held gently around her waist. The ladies-in-waiting trailed behimd them like a flock of confused birds. Once they were out in the hallway, Rosa leaned more heavily on Cecil. "Please send for the midwife," she said quietly. "It's time."

"Lilian, see to it," Violet ordered, and Kain watched Lord Vyran's daughter lumber off. "Now then, Your Majesty, let's see about getting you upstairs."

Violet stepped forward to help Rosa, but Cecil scooped her up in his arms and started walking quickly. Kain followed, ignoring the curious looks of the servants. Rosa's golden head was resting on Cecil's shoulder, her arm wound about his neck.

They gained the King's chambers without further incident, startled guards leaping to hold doors open for the King. Kain waited just outside the doorway while Cecil laid Rosa gently on the bed and hovered uncertainly. Kain backed away, but as his hand touched the door latch, Cecil turned and saw him. "Please don't. Stay," he said, controlled panic evident in his voice.

Reluctantly, Kain stayed where he was, until the rushed footsteps on the stairs prompted him to move out of the way. One of Rosa's ladies-in-waiting was leading a rather frazzled-looking woman in her late forties, trailed by an eager girl with a halo of red curls and an infectious smile. Lilian Vyran was heaving her not-inconsiderable bulk up the stairs after them.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Lissa," Rosa said, sitting half up.

"No need to thank me, Your Majesty," the woman said, setting down the satchel she carried. She turned to Cecil and Kain. "Out, both of you," she ordered, making a shooing gesture with her hands. "This is woman's work."

Cecil started to protest. Kain grabbed his arm and steered him toward the stairs. "She's right, you know," he said as he nudged the paladin to force him to move far enough down that he could pull the door shut. "It is woman's work they're doing."

Cecil rubbed his forehead. "I should be there with her."

Kain nudged him again so that he moved down the stairs, and followed him into a sitting room on the next floor. Moving like an automaton, Cecil staggered toward the nearest couch. Kain headed for the cabinet on the opposite side of the room and poured two hefty glasses of brandy, handing one to Cecil as he perched on the edge of an overstuffed wing chair. Cecil swirled the liquor in his glass. "This doesn't seem like a good idea," he murmured.

"Takes the edge off waiting, or I have heard it said that it does." Kain took a sip and savoured the smooth burn as it slid down his throat and into his stomach. He blinked and studied the glass. "King Odin's personal store?"

"Yes." Cecil took a small sip, sighed, and leaned back against the sofa. "How are you so calm?" he asked a moment later. "You..."

"I'm not." Kain took another sip.

Cecil looked at him. "I remember what you said in the Tower of Zot," he said.

"Yes." Kain reminded himself it would be a bad idea to gulp down the rest of the brandy.

"Do you still feel that way?"

"It will not be an issue."

Cecil sighed. "Kain--"

"Leave it," Kain said curtly. "Drink your brandy, Cecil. I will worry about my own problems."

Cecil took a reluctant sip from his glass. They sat in brooding silence for several hours. Eventually Kain fell asleep, his head falling back against the chair.

He woke suddenly when he heard footsteps on the stairs, leaping to his feet and reaching for a spear that wasn't beside him as he was accustomed to it being. Cecil also stood up, though he did not appear to reach for his weapon. The rising sun behind him limned the Paladin in pure, glowing light, and Kain blinked to clear the glare from his eyes.

The younger of the two midwives rushed into the room, stopped short, and dropped into a deep curtsy. "Your Majesty," she said tremulously. "You have a son."

Cecil rushed past her, his boots thudding on the stairs as he raced up to his room. Kain rubbed his eyes, rolling his head to loosen muscles knotted from sleeping in the chair. The midwife hovered near the door.

"Do you wish an escort home, miss?" he asked her, and she started.

"Oh. I just live in midtown," she said quickly.

Kain frowned. "Midtown is a long walk. I will escort you home to see that no harm comes to you."

"I will leave whenever Mistress Lissa is ready to leave, sir. I will be fine."

Kain sighed. "Very well. A good morning to you, then." He moved past her to the stairs and turned left to head downward.

"Won't you go see the new prince?" she asked.

Kain struggled not to give in to his temptation for bitter laughter. "No. I imagine I will meet him soon enough."

He returned to his quarters in the western tower. The maid was already there, letting in fresh air and light. Kain greeted her and began to tug off his boots.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" she asked him.

"Nothing." Kain started to unlace his tunic, then paused. "Actually, if you would send someone to wake me in three hours' time, please."

"Yes, sir." She curtsied and left the room. Kain undressed and lay down upon the bed, ignoring the morning sunlight that peeked through the shutters to illumine his room. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep, steadfastly pushing away images of Rosa smiling up at him with his son, _their_ son, in her arms.


End file.
